


Like Fine Wine

by lazarusthefirst



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: First Date, Fluff, Getting Together, Kissing, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: Jean's birthday is February 14th. Implications unknown.
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau
Comments: 14
Kudos: 120





	Like Fine Wine

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back babies. It's Halloween so here's a Valentine's Day fic.

USC was pink; horrendously so. 

Jean couldn’t fathom the addition to the usual scalding red and yellow, turning an already bad combination infinitely worse. It made his eyes sting, and he kept his gaze lowered on his way to class, hoping this didn't mean they were changing the school colours. 

Someone had left a handful of pink candy on his desk. Careless. Jean didn’t eat candy, so he placed them on the desk next to him and took out his books. He had skipped coffee after rising late from a bad sleep, and wasn’t as prepared for the strange jokes and pranks of the USC students. Now that his eyes were open, he saw that there was candy everywhere, on everyone’s desk. It was irresponsible. Jeremy would be sorely tempted, and the others on the team had far less discipline. This school made no sense.

Class ended. Jean was only taking math because there were just four language classes available, and he was already taking three of them (they wouldn’t let him take French, even though his written French at least was demonstrably terrible).

Math was hard; he always left class slightly dazed. There was an hour to go before Spanish, followed by the rest of his language classes. Too early for lunch. He was half hoping for a text from Jeremy, so that he could text him back to ask him for math help, and the conversation could go from there. Jeremy would say something fun and thought-provoking that would either make Jean giddy or activate his rage response. Maybe one day he would be brave enough to start one of these pointless but oddly enjoyable conversations.

There was no text from Jeremy, but there was one from Renee. Jean frowned, but before he could open it another came in from Kevin.

Instant panic. Something was wrong. He was so sure of it that the words didn’t initially make sense.

_“Happy birthday Jean! Have a lovely day. Call me later? Hope you're well.”_

And, _“Happy birthday. Hope you're ok.”_

Oh. Birthday. 

Jean didn’t know if he was more surprised that it was his birthday, or that Kevin actually knew when it was - and remembered, no less. He himself had only been vaguely aware of its existence. February 14 was on his passport, but he couldn't recall ever celebrating the day. 

Then again, of course Kevin would know. They'd spent years glaring at the stats of other players, and now Kevin was doing that with Jean's. 

He was saved the dilemma of having to reply by the arrival of his next teacher. 

Jean had been adjacent to several birthdays since arriving at USC, but not actually involved in any. Jeremy’s birthday was in May. Jean knew that from checking his stats in previous years, but the information wasn’t of any practical use to him now, regardless of how aware of it he was.

Lunch continued the day’s confusing theme of pink. The expansive dining hall was bedecked with red and pink hearts, like the ones the Trojans sent indiscriminately to the group chats Jean was forced to take part in. He was in the upperclassmen group, the first string group, the backliners group, and the overall team group, which was more than he could take on any day. 

‘You want yoghurt?’

Jeremy was looking at him over the dairy. Jean pretended to examine the offerings, even though he’d already had his eye on the - 

‘Wait, don’t tell me,’ Jeremy said quickly. ‘Vanilla?’

Jean snatched up the pot before Jeremy could, defensive. His annoyance, even his anger, always failed to get anything more than a smile and a wink from Jeremy.

He followed them to their usual table. Jean had long ago accepted defeat in the battle of lunchtime; sitting with a whole gang of Trojans was marginally less annoying than sitting alone and subjecting himself to the general populace, who might try to make conversation. Jean could talk about exy and languages and fuck all else, and the Trojans were getting used to that.

The decorations were starting to make him nervous. Everyone was laughing and fooling around and tossing little paper hearts at each other, but no one had mentioned the fact that it was his birthday. Jean hardened himself as he ate, sure that this was a prank. Having some sort of birthday celebration without directly addressing the fact that it was his birthday. And the whole campus seemed to be in on it too? Maybe everyone was in a group chat except for him, all having a big laugh at his expense. His shoulders tensed with every bite of food.

‘I thought you liked vanilla?’ Jeremy asked him quietly.

‘I do,’ Jean snapped.

‘Is it … expired? You’re making that face.’

Jean fought the urge to throw the spoon.

He usually tried to scram as quickly as possible after meals so he didn’t have to journey back towards classes with, but the birthday stuff had him all confused and bothered. He thought about taking out his phone to reply to Kevin. Maybe even call Renee, like she asked. Thank her for the birthday greeting, like a normal person. Let everyone around him know that yes, he knew it was his birthday, no he hadn’t forgotten, and they can stop with this weird fucking joke now.

‘We’re going for drinks tonight,’ Jeremy said, marching beside him and swinging his arms like he hadn’t a care in the world. 

Jean felt the usual spasm of reluctance followed by longing. Would he like to spend an evening in the company of someone other than his own angry and bitter thoughts? Fuck yes. Was he capable of that? No. 

“Hanging out” meant talking, or being expected to talk in some way. Exposing himself as inept wasn’t ever part of the plan.

‘Why?’ he asked. He wanted to argue. Jeremy was a peaceful guy but always met him determinedly, stroke for stroke. Gentle but firm. One of the few thrills in Jean’s life was going back and forth with Jeremy on some piece of meaningless detail, getting more and more worked up while Jeremy stayed steady. Eventually Jean would calm down and they’d talk normally. Jean didn’t know how Jeremy could stand him. But at least Jean never started it.

Jeremy just shrugged. ‘Well, just for the day that’s in it? I was thinking we could go to a bar, maybe … or dinner?’

Jean glanced at him suspiciously. ‘Who’s we?’

Jeremy opened his mouth, hesitated, and said, ‘Just, like, us. You and me. If you want.’

Jean thought about that. It was certainly a more agreeable alternative than a) listen to the Trojans argue about pop culture, or b) sitting in his room alone getting angrier and angrier.  
‘Fine,’ he agreed. If Jeremy wanted to make a thing of his birthday, he was welcome to do so. It wasn’t like he had another one to compare it to.

Jeremy looked very pleased. More than usual, in fact. Jean knew it was stupid to feel proud about that - but it was his birthday. He could indulge in a little stupidity. It was the nation’s favourite pastime, after all.

‘Awesome,’ Jeremy said. He appeared to be fighting back a huge grin. ‘Awesome.’

Jeremy headed to class with a promise to text Jean details. Jean waved him away, trying to downplay it already. Jeremy was usually reliable, but Jean didn’t trust those Trojans. What if they showed up unannounced? What if - oh god - what if this was a surprise party? They had had a surprise party for Laila in November. Jean recalled the details with a sinking stomach. Alvarez had kept Laila out at a late dinner while Jeremy and the others set up the party. The dinner had been a distraction …

English class was a waste of time. All of Jean’s brainpower was focused entirely on how to avoid what he was now sure was a terrible surprise party in the making. Surely they knew him better than this by now? But no - they were ever a bunch of optimists. Jeremy was probably leading the charge, desperate to find a reaction in Jean that was normal. For Jean to be someone Jeremy could understand. Some days Jean wished he could be that person for him. Other days, he wished they would all just leave him the fuck alone.

If English was pointless, Spanish was even more so. Jean had never wasted his time like this, but by the time the teacher was saying _hasta luego_ he was almost in tears. He simply wouldn’t be able to go back to the dorms tonight - that much was clear. He could sleep in the stadium. The couches in the lounge were comfortable enough. 

But now he had a second problem. The bar itself could be the location of the party. People yelling "surprise"? He’d have a fucking panic attack. Just trying to get to the bar itself, knowing what was coming? Panic attack. Looking at Jeremy’s excited expression, seeing it fall as he realized Jean was a cracked vase, only ever one bad moment away from falling apart …

Jean rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted. He still had a whole day’s practise to get through plus homework and study before the dreaded event. Jeremy had already sent the details - _‘the Barge, 8pm? If that’s cool with you!’_

Jean headed to the stadium alone, taking a different route to avoid any of his teammates, so that he could try to clear his head. Jean used to be good at that; shutting off his brain, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Getting through the day without thinking about the inevitable that was to come.

So he put his head down. He played his own game, going through drills and doing whatever Coach said. No one shouted at him, no one hurt him. Jean took comfort in that. This would still be a constant.

Jeremy tried to get his attention multiple times, but Jean wouldn’t be drawn. He stayed locked into himself, deliberately closed off. He knew Jeremy would hate that, but he could only play one game right now.

The answer came to him in the showers. He would simply change the venue at the last minute. In fact, he would go to a different bar and tell Jeremy he’d checked it out and liked it more than The Barge. That was the answer. There was still the actual work to be done, but Jean had solved the problem. The relief that washed over him was better than any cool shower, and he tipped his head back to enjoy the water for a moment longer.

Almost everyone had cleared out of the locker room. Jean’s stomach was ready for dinner, but he was last, as always. They’d mostly stopped gawking at his scars; now it was just his habit to take a little longer. He found enjoyment in taking time that had previously been denied him. Jean had a hunch that, if he was given enough time, and in another life maybe, he might become a man of leisure. 

‘Jean?’

Jean paused, halfway into his sweater. Jeremy’s voice sounded very small.

When his head emerged, he saw Jeremy standing by the door, looking unsure.

‘What?’

Jeremy’s eyes were a very dark brown; from this distance they looked almost black. For once, he wasn’t smiling.

‘If you want to cancel tonight, it’s ok,’ he said, quietly.

Jean blinked. ‘What?’ he said again, brilliantly.

Jeremy dropped his gaze. His ears, Jean noticed, were touched with pink.

‘I just thought you might be having second thoughts,’ he said, addressing somewhere vaguely to Jean’s right. ‘I tried to ask you a couple of times today … It’s ok, you know. You can say no to me.’

Jean watched him closely. ‘What do you mean?’

Jeremy finally met his eyes. ‘I don’t want you to say yes just because I asked,’ he said. His tone was more careful now. ‘Like, I know you do what I say on the court … but you know that you can say no to me off the court, right?’

If Jeremy hadn’t looked so worried, Jean would have snapped. If he hadn’t looked so sweetly concerned for Jean’s wellbeing. If he hadn’t been Jeremy. 

Did he have a problem with authority? It would make sense, Jean thought, but it was humiliating that Jeremy had figured it out first.

‘I know,’ he muttered. 

Jeremy tilted his head up. Despite the unsettled moment, Jean let himself look. He didn’t quite know what to make of Jeremy looking back.

‘It’s fine,’ Jean said, eventually. ‘I’m … looking forward to it, actually.’

Jeremy didn’t look convinced, and he was right. Jean was lying. So he took a deep breath.

‘It will be just us, right?’ he asked. ‘That’s why I said yes. So if you had planned for anyone else …’

Jeremy’s expression cleared. ‘Oh! No, not at all. Definitely not, Jean. It’s just us.’ He paused, then lowered his gaze again. ‘I just thought it would be good … you know, considering the day?’

He looked up again, with hope in his eyes. Jean couldn’t say no to that. 

Actually, he wanted to say yes for once.

‘Ok then,’ he said, feeling suddenly relieved. He trusted that face. ‘Just us.’

Jeremy gave him the sweetest smile, and Jean felt his heart kick back to life. He just about stopped himself from putting a hand to his chest.

Jeremy asked him if he wanted to wait around, but Jean told him he could go on ahead. He needed to think, again. 

He thought he’d never be able to concentrate on homework now, but it went better than expected. Dinner had been thirty minutes of Jeremy catching his eye and then biting down on a smile and looking away, sometimes blushing. Jean had missed his mouth with his fork several times in his eagerness to catch him looking. 

The idea of marking his birthday in some way was really only exciting when he considered it was Jeremy who wanted to do it. Jean didn’t feel older or different in any way, but he couldn’t deny feeling a bit special as he pondered what to wear that evening. He most just had the same black t-shirt 7 times. The only variety came in the neckline. But while he was rummaging through his drawer, he found the shirt Abby Winfield had bought him back when he’d been in her house. She hadn’t said, but it had been intended for Riko’s funeral. Jean, unused to standing up to authority and utterly unable to argue with the people who said he should go, had stolen a bottle whiskey from Abby’s cabinet and drank until he couldn’t stand. 

Those had been bleak days; Jean had tried hard to forget them. He picked the shirt up; it was still wrapped in tissue paper. After the disaster with the funeral, Abby had kept it for …

He closed his eyes, remembering. The ceremony for the Foxes winning the season. It had been postponed after everything had happened. There had been no question of Jean attending; there would be press, who would lose their minds at the sight of his injuries. Even after a few bedridden weeks, there was still no hiding the fact that Jean had been violently assaulted.  
But there had been a dinner planned that night, at Abby’s. All the team attending to toast their belated win before heading off into the night. Jean had been invited by virtue of living there at the time. Renee had actually tried to persuade him … but the shirt still remained unworn.

Jean held it up to inspect. It was nice enough, from what he knew of fashion. Some sort of navy blue, with white piping. A color not so far out of his wheelhouse that he’d feel like a sore thumb. Jean laid it out on his bed with some care, wondering what Jeremy would be wearing.

Another decision made. Excited though he was - a feeling so unusual it gave him pause - he was able to finish all his homework while Scott, his roommate, was still scratching his head over today’s math. Jean could have helped him, but the excitement was starting to bubble over into nerves. He retreated to his room to get ready, hoping that Scott wouldn’t ask questions. Not that they ever really spoke; Scott was afraid of him. 

When he was all dressed up and ready to go, it occurred to Jean that he would now have to see Jeremy. Holding his phone in sweaty hands, he considered what to do next. 

Then a text came through and he nearly dropped it.

_Meet you in the lobby in 5?_

Deep breaths. 

Jeremy lived in another part of the building; not up or down from Jean, but adjacent. Jean didn’t know if he wanted to be there already, or arrive to find him waiting. He had to take several moments in the bathroom and nervously comb his hair back a few times - it needed a cut, but he tended to let it grow a little longer. Riko had always made them cut their hair brutally short. 

He headed downstairs, feeling like his arms were too long and his legs too short. He hesitated in the stairwell because he could hear Jeremy talking to someone. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he sounded little anxious.

‘Ha, yeah, no, just waiting for - someone,’ Jeremy was saying. ‘Don’t let me stop you, buddy, I’ll catch you later.’

Jean felt a twinge as Jeremy declined to admit who he was waiting for. Whoever it was headed out after that, but Jean waited a few moments before descending the last of the steps.  
Jeremy looked up and had a big grin for Jean. ‘Hey! This is great - you ready? Awesome. Ok, lets go.’

He was excited, more animated than usual. Jeremy had a quiet reserve most of the time, reigning the others in when they got too boisterous. It was that calm that drew Jean to him usually - but this energy was infectious. 

They headed off campus and towards downtown. It was close by, and it was a Friday night, so there were plenty of people around. They smoothed over any awkwardness with talk about the day’s practise. Exy, for Jean, was the great leveller. Boring, safe, and he could talk about it all day without finding himself out of his depth.

The Barge wasn’t somewhere Jean had been before. It was a little more out of the way than their usual strip of haunts, and quieter too, but there were still plenty of people about. It had some sort of nautical theme to it, but was mostly hidden under more pink and red hearts. Jean was prepared to believe that the whole town had gone mad, but he wasn’t worried about that right now. Jeremy had found them a little booth - a couple was just leaving - and the waitress was already on her way over.

Jean, put on the spot, asked for whatever Jeremy was having without paying attention to what it was.

‘I thought you didn’t like beer?’ Jeremy commented.

Jean tried not to grimace. ‘Uh, trying something new.’

Once they had a few sips, Jeremy began trying to coax conversation out of him. Topics that Jean could talk on were slim, so he took a plunge.

‘This is my first time celebrating this day,’ he said. ‘It was obviously never a thing … before.’

‘Right,’ Jeremy said. His arms were folded on the table. He was wearing a shirt too; mint green, fitted. He looked great, and made Jean feel better about his own attire.

‘I was wondering if you might be weird about this,’ Jeremy confessed. ‘I mean, I hoped … You’re kinda hard to read, you know?’

Jean took a drink of horrible beer. ‘Well. That’s fair.’

‘But you’re happy enough - I mean, being here.’

Jean risked a little smile. ‘I don’t tend to do things that I don’t want to do. Anymore. Its kind of a … privilege. Something I didn’t have before.’

Jeremy appeared to like the sound of that. ‘What else do you do now that’s different from then?’

Jean thought about it. ‘My hair is longer,’ he said. ‘We used to have, ah, military haircuts.’

Jeremy snorted with laughter. ‘I remember. It suits you,’ he said. ‘The longer hair, I mean. My hair doesn’t grow that way.’

Jeremy did keep a neat Boy Scout haircut at all times, although it was slightly ruffled this evening, like he’d been trying something new. 

‘It tickles my ears a bit,’ Jean admitted. ‘But I think I like it.’

‘What else?’

It took Jean a minute to realize that he hadn’t taken advantage of much else. ‘It’s nice to not have 16 hour days anymore,’ he muttered.

Jeremy cocked his head. ‘From what I hear, you keep them anyways.’

Jean sat back and took a drink to buy himself time. ‘What’s Scott been saying?’

Jeremy did his best to look innocent. ‘I keep track of everyone, Jean,’ he said. ‘You know, making sure people aren’t overworking or burning out - that everyone’s eating ok - ‘

‘You haven’t asked me shit about Scott.’

‘Would you be able to tell me anything if I did?’

Harsh. Jean pretended to think about it. ‘If you asked me nicely.’

That startled such a laugh out of him that Jean sat back, both amazed and stupidly pleased. It was also nice to observe that he was blushing again. Jean wasn’t sure what he was doing to prompt these little flushes of colour, but he wanted to keep doing it.

‘Ok, but seriously though,’ Jeremy said, controlling his grin. ‘I’m not spying on you. I just don’t want anyone slipping into bad habits.’

‘You sound like Coach.’

‘Well, that’s how he phrased it when he asked me to spy on all of you.’

‘Can’t believe you’re a snitch.’

‘I care,’ Jeremy said. ‘We’re winning that title this year, baby.’

‘Ah, there it is,’ Jean said, raising his voice so he wouldn’t have to hear Jeremy calling him “baby” over and over in his head. ‘All you care about is winning.’

Jeremy smiled, shaking his head. ‘You know, I always wanted to win it,’ he said. ‘And then Kevin talked to me about you transferring … and when I brought it to Coach and we talked some more, and he said something like, “I really think we’re gonna do it this year” …’ 

Jeremy paused, and glanced up at Jean, like he wanted to see how this was being received. Jean just raised an eyebrow.

‘And I kept asking if you were ok to play, like, emotionally,’ Jeremy went on. ‘But it was all stats and numbers and where we would rotate you in the team. It’s like the coaches were just going to leave all that to the doctors.’

He paused, made a face. ‘Sorry. I just don’t want it to be all about the win, you know?’

‘You want to win.’

‘Yeah, I do. But not if it means we all don’t win.’

Jean tapped his fingers against his glass. ‘So that’s why you’re spying on us all?’

Jeremy opened his mouth to deny it, then closed it again with a little shrug, and they both laughed. 

The ordered some chips and dip because athletes were always hungry. Jean would have opted for carrot sticks or celery, but he was so caught up in Jeremy’s smile and eyes that he went along with everything. He was dimly aware that he was acting like a fool, but self-analysis had never been his strong point. Jean was enjoying himself, and he felt a strong urge to pursue that. He’d get a gold star in therapy next week. 

‘I don’t think they do vegetables here,’ Jeremy winked at him. ‘Unless you count fries.’

Jean eyed the plate, then took a fry. ‘I never ate these before coming here,’ he said. 

Jeremy looked at him. ‘Here, like this bar, or - ’

Jean shook his head. ‘California,’ he said. 

Jeremy watched him. ‘And you like?’

Jean threw him a quick grin. ‘It’s definitely in the “good” column.’

Jeremy had his chin on his fist, watching Jean with deep interest. ‘You have a bad column?’

‘There are several items in it, yes.’

‘Like what?’

Jean considered how much to say. ‘You all talk too much,’ he said, and Jeremy barked a laugh.

‘Oh, that’s not fair,’ Jeremy protested, but he was smiling. ‘Well, maybe by comparison. We get buoyed up in the press, fans, the coaches even. Everyone here gets asked their opinion. It contributes to a great team atmosphere, and I do think it makes us play better … '

He paused, and rubbed his chin in a way Jean found fascinating. ‘But I guess I can see why that might be … grating. If you’re not used to it.’

Jean nodded, and took another drink. ‘That’s big of you.’

Jeremy grinned. ‘Fine, ok. What’s in the good column?’

‘That’s easier.’ Jean held up a fry, then ate it and started ticking off on his fingers. ‘Fast food. Sunshine. Time.’ He paused, wiped his hands with his napkin. ‘Peace … despite all the talking, there is peace. And no violence.’ He looked up at Jeremy and gave him a little smile. ‘What more could a man want?’

Jeremy smiled back. ‘Man, I was so wrong about you.’

Jean blinked. ‘What?’

‘Don’t take that the wrong way,’ Jeremy said. ‘I just mean that I kind of thought you were too cool for us. I was intimidated. Honestly … I felt like a bit of a fool around you sometimes. But that’s before I got to know you.’ He laughed a little, mostly at himself, and reached for his drink. ‘Sunshine and peace …’ He shook his head. ‘It’s good to know you’re human.’

Jean snorted, even though his heart was pounding. ‘Sometimes I feel more like an alien.’

‘Why?’

Jean shrugged, trying to figure out how to put his messy thoughts into words. ‘I’m not saying I preferred it back at Edgar Allen, but I was … more normal there. I knew where I stood. Here I’m …’ He waved his hand with a little shrug. ‘What’s the expression? A snowman in the desert?’

Jeremy smiled, but not with humor. ‘You fit in more than you know,’ he said, softly. ‘As for the rest of it … You can’t exactly help being so - ’

He bit off the end of his sentence, and Jean cocked his head. ‘What?’

Jeremy took a drink, like he was covering. He shrugged, made a little gesture with his hands, but Jean was still waiting. 

‘Attractive,’ he said, finally. ‘Intimidating. French. All of that.’

Jean wasn’t sure what his face was doing, but didn’t have to worry too much since Jeremy was looking everywhere but at him.

He cleared his throat, and reached for his drink. ‘Guess I can’t.’

They sat in silence for a few moments after that, Jean trying to reorient himself in the light of this new information. 

‘This helps me feel more normal,’ he admitted, feeling brave. Liquid courage, or the gentle blush at the tips of Jeremy’s ears? Jean didn’t care.

Jeremy looked up. ‘What does?’

Jean gestured a little, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Just, this.’ 

He would have said more, but his phone rang. And he would have ignored it, but it was Renee. He’d never get around to calling her back.

‘It’s Renee,’ he said, slowly. He met Jeremy’s eyes. ‘Do you mind …?’

Jeremy, of course, encouraged him to answer it.

Renee’s voice was bright and bubbly on the other end, and brought a smile to Jean’s face. ‘How does it feel to be 22?’ she asked.

‘About the same as 21,’ Jean admitted. ‘Different to previous birthdays.’

‘How so?’

‘Just that someone has acknowledged it.’

Renee laughed sympathetically. ‘Well, I’m glad things are looking up for you.’

‘I’m actually out right now. With a friend.’

‘Jean, that’s wonderful.’ The warmth in her voice was a balm. ‘I’m really happy for you. Let's talk again soon, ok?’

Jean agreed, and hung up feeling at peace with the world, a feeling so bizarre he wondered if he was drunk.

He turned his eyes on Jeremy and let them wander. His hands, fidgeting on the table and near his drink, long-fingered and knobbly, with short nails. His slim, rounded shoulders and tanned neck were so appealing to Jean; he didn’t know why. Everything about him was pleasing. Jean felt a flush colouring his skin, probably from the alcohol he wasn’t used to. 

Jeremy had a strange look on his face. He was rubbing his fingers back and forth over his mouth as he stared at something over Jean’s shoulder, eyes unfocused.

‘Jeremy?’

‘How’s Renee?’ His voice was mild, but expression still distracted. 

‘Fine,’ Jean said. He paused, then added, ‘I never remember my birthday.’ He paused, reached for his drink, then changed his mind. ‘But it’s normal to celebrate a birthday,’ he said. ‘Right? This should be my new normal. Going out with a friend, having a drink - I don’t know what I was so afraid of.’

That seemed to snap Jeremy out of whatever deep thought he’d been mired in. He blinked at Jean, and then a smile spread slowly across his face. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,’ he said. ‘I really want you to be happy here, Jean. You deserve it.’

It was an oddly serious thought to bring in to what Jean had considered a fairly light discussion - which, for him, was saying something. But he found that he liked hearing what Jeremy had to say, especially when it was about him. 

That was strange. Jean never used to care about what anyone thought of him.

‘Thank you,’ Jean said, trying to sound as sincere as Jeremy had. And, in an effort to be more honest and normal, he added, ‘I’n not used to having friends who aren’t … ’

‘Kevin?’

Jean felt a flicker of surprise - he hadn’t been going to say that, but it was true. For some reason, it made him laugh.

Jeremy’s eyes were warm and focused on him, and his smile grew in response.

‘Kind of,’ Jean admitted. ‘I guess, yeah - Kevin has been my only friend. Until Renee, and you.’

Jean didn’t know why he felt self-conscious admitting that. Maybe it was just the fact of referring to Jeremy and how he felt about him - no matter the context.

‘I’m glad to be your friend.’ 

Jeremy was still smiling at him, but something was a little off. Maybe Jean wouldn’t have noticed the difference if he hadn’t spent his whole life surviving by reading people’s moods and face. But he had, and he did. 

So he saw that Jeremy’s happiness was pasted on. A veneer. Maybe a real one, but he was hiding something else underneath. 

If it was anyone else, Jean would have been uneasy enough to get up and leave. But it was Jeremy, so it was different.

Jean had never been particularly bold. Maybe once, but it had been beaten out of him time and time again until all that was left was pure survival instinct. 

But he was a whole year older today, and for once Jean was paying attention.

‘I was looking forward to this all day,’ he said. ‘I don’t normally like socialising. It’s hard for me. And you make me … nervous.’

Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up. ‘What? Me?’

His reaction lessened Jean’s nerves somewhat. ‘Yes, you.’

Jeremy was still smiling, but with incredulity. ‘I find that hard to believe. I barely make the opposition nervous.’

Jean rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said. ‘You’re the captain.’

‘Jean, no one can stand beside you and be impressive. Least of all me.’

‘I’m not the best player on the team, I - ’

‘I’m not talking about exy,’ Jeremy interrupted, waving his hand. ‘You have this really strong presence, you know? You walk into a room and everyone notices. You barely say anything but when you do, everyone listens. And even though I sometimes worry about you, I’ve never had a moments doubt.’

Jeremy always looked you in the eye when he spoke, but tonight he was glancing around and gesturing with his hands and most certainly avoiding looking at Jean when he spoke. 

Jean found himself suddenly eager to hear more, and say more. But the bar was getting crowded, and people were wandering close to their table. He was nervous enough as it was; he didn’t also want to be worrying about being overheard. 

‘Do you want to - go somewhere else?’ he asked. ‘Somewhere quiet?’

For some reason, Jeremy’s neck and ears flushed pink. But he agreed, nodding and going for his wallet and suggesting other locations all at the same time. Jean watched with some amusement as he paid - insisting, as it was Jean’s birthday, which apparently was customary - and then they left together.

To stem whatever flow of nerves was making Jeremy babble, he asked something that had been on his mind all day.

‘The hearts,’ he said, as they exited the bar. ‘All the red and pink. What is it about?’

Jeremy looked at him in surprise. ‘The - what?’

Jean gestured at the decorations behind them. ‘I thought it was a prank at first, you know.’

They walked a little further down the sidewalk. It was noisy, with crowds of students spilling out from each establishment. Jean assumed that’s why Jeremy didn’t answer right away.  
But then they took a quiet side street, and then cut through a parking lot to an even quieter street, with shops closed for the day, and still Jeremy stayed quiet. Jean wasn’t sure where they were going.

‘Jeremy?’

Startled out of whatever thoughts consumed him, Jeremy looked up.

Jean tried to smile, but he still didn’t do that naturally without cause. It probably came off as a grimace. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked, instead. 

Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck, and his footsteps slowed. ‘I thought you wanted to go someplace quiet to talk,’ he said. ‘Uh, we can go back there if you want.’

Jean considered it, but only for a second. ‘No, it’s fine,’ he said. ’So, what’s up with today?’

Jeremy looked up at him again, considering. Jean stopped to look back. He usually found himself taller than most people, but it was oddly pleasing to stand next to Jeremy like this. Jeremy’s head was tilted back, and cocked slightly to one side. It was dark out, but his brown eyes seemed to shine nonetheless. Jean felt like he’d been cataloguing him for months, but tonight was a particularly good night for those eyes. 

‘Come on,’ Jeremy said, inclining his head. 

Against all his previous instincts, Jean followed him into a little parkette, still open at this hour. There were shrubs and flowers and a little water feature, and the stone path seemed to wind further back than they could see.

‘I’m always honest with my friends,’ Jeremy said, as they began to wander down it. ‘I’ve never had a problem with that before. But I haven’t been honest with you, Jean. I didn’t know it was your birthday.’

Of all the things he’d been expecting, this wasn’t one of them. ‘What?’

Jeremy sighed, and then coughed out a laugh. ‘I mean, I would have asked you out anyways if I’d known! And - I guess I did know, I must have known at some point.’ He paused, thinking. ‘I did know. Last summer, when we were signing you. I went over all your stats again, and I read your birthday. But I - I forgot. I was so focused on …’

Jeremy’s voice trailed off. Jean, bursting with curiosity and nerves, tried to pick up the conversation again before it died. ‘I’m never honest,’ he said. ‘Except - well, that was being honest. But, you know, people say “how are you?”, and it’s easier to say fine than to get into it, right? So I just don’t say anything, or say something else.’

‘Yeah, you do that,’ Jeremy said, slowly. ‘I never realised. So every time I asked you how you were, you were - ’

Jean waved his hand. ‘I’m exaggerating,’ he muttered. ‘I have nothing to complain about.’

There was silence for a few moments. Then Jeremy said quietly, ‘That was a lie.’

Jean sighed. Mood killer.

‘Won’t you tell me how you really feel?’ Jeremy pressed.

‘You won’t like it,’ Jean said. ‘There’s a reason I’m in therapy three times a week.’

‘You don’t have to tell me all your secrets,’ Jeremy said. ‘Not if you don’t want to. But, like … is there anything I can do to help?’

Jean thought about that, then smiled. ‘Tell me about today?’

Jeremy laughed. ‘Ah, ok,’ he said. ‘Well, today is Valentine’s Day.’

That was vaguely familiar. Jean started putting the pieces together, starting with the pink hearts and candy and ending with Jeremy’s blushes. ‘Oh,’ he said, quietly. ‘That’s a day about …’ He didn’t want to finish that sentence, feeling his own colour rising.

‘Yes, it is typically a day for romance, and making presumptuous gestures towards people who were previously your friends,’ Jeremy said, very matter of fact.

Jean had no idea how to respond. He hadn’t been built to figure out these feelings.

They kept walking; aimlessly, Jean had thought, but Jeremy was suddenly aiming for a bench under a tree that was just beginning to bud. Jean went willingly, eyes on Jeremy’s back. He had often admired his shape, and how he moved. Letting his eyes roam, he felt a stirring inside him of something so dormant it may as well have been dead.

Absorbed as he was in examining that feeling, he was startled when Jeremy turned towards him and said his name.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why this feels so … momentous for me,’ Jeremy was saying, with a slight smile. ‘I’m usually much more direct. I’m sorry if I’ve treated you differently.’

Jean, still slightly at sea, said bracingly, ‘Well, I have nothing to compare it to.’

Jeremy’s smile dimmed slightly. ‘That’s a shame,’ he murmured. ‘You deserve …’

Jean looked at him as he trailed off, suddenly desperate to know Jeremy’s thoughts. All his study of social interaction told him that he was way overdue on a contribution here, but looking into Jeremy’s eyes sort of shorted out something in his brain.

‘Your eyes,’ he mumbled. ‘Are very nice.’

Jeremy looked as though he was sure he’d misheard. ‘My - eyes?’

Jean nodded as earnestly as he could, and was rewarded with a smile that nearly knocked him off the bench.

‘Well, thanks,’ Jeremy said, still beaming, but looking down at his hands. ‘No one’s ever told me that before.’

Jean shifted a little closer, braver now that he had some momentum. ‘I also like your … smile.’

Jeremy was still wearing a slightly dazed expression. ‘Wait, so - is this for real? Like, do you …’

Jean didn’t feel inclined to take his eyes off him. ‘Not sure what you mean,’ he said. ‘I’m just enjoying the view.’

It seemed like Jeremy was doing the same thing. Jean became aware that he was smiling rather foolishly - god, if any of his old teammates could see him now. He’d never done anything even remotely like this in his life. It should feel strange and out of character. Instead it felt … easy. Fun. Normal.

Was it really this easy? To like someone, and be liked back?

‘Just to clarify,’ Jean said, leaning back slightly. ‘This isn’t just part of Valentine, right?’

Jeremy laughed, and Jean felt his breath on his cheek. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I like you, Jean. In a friend way, and in a more-than-friend way. I would like very much if you also felt the same way, and if you don’t then that’s ok. I still want to be your friend.’

Jean cocked his head. ‘If I said no, how would we go back to normal?’ he asked, slowly.

They were still very close; Jean’s eyes roamed slowly over the finer points of Jeremy’s face, indulging himself for once. Watching him as he thought about things - carefully, as Jeremy always did.

‘Well,’ he said. ‘I’d probably have to take a step back from you. Just a small one, but … I think it would be hard being around you, feeling how I feel, knowing you didn’t feel the same.’ He tilted his head slightly. ‘I suppose I’d get over it eventually, but … you are definitely a distraction.’

His voice had deepened, and his eyes grew darker as he spoke. Jean wanted desperately to lean in, but there was still a shyness to Jeremy; a reticence, that suggested there was something he still wasn’t sure of.

This was a different kind of conversation than the one Jean was used to. He searched for the word, and found it perched on the soft curve of Jeremy’s mouth. A flirtation.

‘How do I distract you?’

As he spoke, he reached out and put a hand on Jeremy’s knee. Despite their smooth talk, they both jumped.

Jeremy’s exhale was a little shaky. ‘I - well. Hm.’ 

He paused, swallowed. Jean’s eyes were fixed on his throat like nothing else existed. 

‘Every time you get up from the library,’ he said. ‘For coffee, or one of those secret smoke breaks you think I don’t know about.’

His eyes sparkled, and Jean was helpless. What surprised him was how much he didn’t mind. 

‘Every time you’d get up, I’d look up and wish I could go with you. And then I’d sit and wait for you to come back, just so I could watch you do that, too.’

Jean looked at him hungrily. ‘I don’t even like cigarettes,’ he said, and leaned in.

When their lips met, Jeremy’s were still curved up in a smile. 

Jean had never even thought of kissing anyone since he was 16. Any brief fantasy or desire that had flitted through him had been quickly and ruthlessly torn out and trashed. He'd had neither the time nor the safety to do anything other than survive. When he’d bothered to think about it at all, Jean had just assumed he’d be like this forever.

After a quick intake of breath, Jeremy kissed him back. The warm press of his lips was like velvet. His mouth opened, and the taste and the feeling was better than wine, better than chocolate. Jean chased it, leaning in and kissing him again, sliding his hand up his leg as easy as he’d wield his racquet. 

Another press of the lips, and Jeremy withdrew. Jean opened his eyes, questioning, curious, and saw that Jeremy had ducked his head, eyes lowered. He was blushing, still smiling. He covered Jean’s hand with his own, and Jean was asking, ‘What, what is it?’ before he even realised he was talking. 

Jeremy brushed his nose against Jean’s, and Jean shivered all the way down to his toes. ‘Kissing you under a tree in a beautiful park is the best possible version of how I imagined this, Jean.’ He said his name like a blessing. ‘However, I’m cold. And there are more comfortable places to do this.’

Jean pulled back a little, his negative brain automatically switching tracks and wondering if he’d done something wrong. Maybe Jeremy hadn’t liked it, or had changed his mind.  
The worry must have shown on his face, because Jeremy smiled and touched his cheek softly. ‘Easy,’ he murmured. ‘It’s just relocating. Is that ok?’

Jean still wasn’t sure, but when Jeremy pulled him up and took his hand to lead him out of the park, everything felt pretty fucking ok, actually.

‘Ok,’ he said. Standing up, he offered Jeremy his hand. It was something other people wouldn’t think twice about but Jean had to think pretty fucking hard about because trusting people wasn’t second or even third nature to him. Admitting attraction - and therefore vulnerability? Once, Jean would have thought he’d have more luck sprouting wings and flying away from his problems.

Jeremy took his hand easily, and then held on to it. A squeeze of his fingers, a smile and then a wink. Jean gulped, and let himself be led.

The walk home, he thought, would be a good way to compose himself. Yes, he was holding Jeremy’s hand, but that was something he could acclimatise to in the thirty or so minutes it would take to get back to the dorms. By the time they hit campus again he’d be cool with it. It would all be cool.

It was not cool. Jean’s pulse pounded louder with every step they took. Jeremy was doing this little thing where he stroked his thumb over Jean’s every now and then. It didn’t seem to be conscious; every glance Jean threw at him found Jeremy’s usual calm expression, albeit with a little smile on his face, a slight flush in his cheeks. But it was making Jean more than a little agitated.

As they waited to cross at a street corner, Jeremy decided to put Jean’s sanity in greater jeopardy by resting his chin on Jean’s shoulder. It was idly done; he was checking his phone with the hand not in Jean’s. 

‘Comfy?’ Jean asked, through gritted teeth. Jeremy’s hair smelled like coconut, and his body was warm where it was pressed close.

‘Mm,’ Jeremy agreed. Then he paused, and stepped back. ‘Too close for you?’

Jean struggled to keep a straight face. ‘I see what you mean about … distractions.’

Jeremy met his eyes for a beat. Then he gave him a smile, quite unlike his usual grin. It was slow and wide, and spelled trouble.

Five blocks from campus, Jean unlinked their fingers and instead slipped his arm around Jeremy’s waist. Two blocks away and Jeremy had daringly slipped his hand into Jean’s back pocket. He didn’t seem to care who saw them, which was good because that had always been bottom of Jean’s concerns. 

By the time they were in the elevator heading upstairs, Jean was trying to take off Jeremy’s shirt. 

‘Can you wait, like, five minutes?’ Jeremy half-protested, squirming happily under Jean’s hands. 

‘No,’ Jean replied, before pressing his mouth to Jeremy’s neck. It felt like something had unlocked inside him, leaving him an absolute madman in its wake. Jeremy’s quiet sigh of pleasure under his touch made his palms sweat.

Jean had let Jeremy lead the way because his brain was at about 5% efficiency right now. He had just enough brainpower to marvel at the fact at just how cool and chill he was being about this whole thing; the rest was focused on Jeremy, and doing more things to him with his hands.

‘Ok,’ Jeremy said, as they arrived at his door. ‘Connor promised he'd be out all night, but maybe you should take your hands off me just in case.’

That did give Jean pause; distantly, he wondered if this was a thing that was supposed to be a secret.

‘Oh,’ he said, drawing back. ‘Do you not want people to …’

Jeremy glanced over his shoulder and winked. ‘We can either do this sneakily, or get caught and waste half an hour getting teased before we can get any privacy at all.’

Jean withdrew his hands. ‘Ok, ok. Just … hurry.’

Grinning, Jeremy at last got the door open and pulled him inside. 

The suite was in darkness; whether or not that meant anyone was at home, Jean did not care. He fell upon Jeremy, fingers finding his waist, slipping under his shirt to touch hot, taut skin. Jeremy was laughing, hands on his shoulders, kissing him back.

Somehow, the couch was found. It faced away from the door, affording them some measure of privacy if someone came in unexpectedly, but it hardly mattered to them. All Jean cared about was getting closer to Jeremy and kissing him.

God, how they kissed. Hands roamed and probed, their bodies writhed, and they kissed so much Jean thought his lips would fall off. His face burned from the heat, from the unfamiliar touch, from the light rasp of stubble. His limbs trembled - all he could think, smell, feel, was Jeremy. 

If only last year’s Jean could see him now.

Eventually he succeeded in separating Jeremy from his shirt. He tossed it on the ground and pressed his lips to his collarbone, delighting in all this newness. He was so lost in it that he didn’t notice the door opening. Jeremy, who was on top of him, did. He clapped a hand over his mouth, which Jean promptly licked. Jeremy shuddered on top of him, pressing his body flat; Jean happily pulled him even closer, still sort of in awe of this new Jean who did things like put his hands down the back of Jeremy’s trousers with scarcely a blush.

The noises of newcomers reached him now. A girl - two girls. Laila?

‘Are you sure he won’t be back?’

‘No way. He finally got Jean to go on a date with him.’ A pause for a frantic, noisy kiss. ‘It either went bad, and he’s out there crying somewhere - ’ another kiss - ‘or it went really well, and they’re banging back at Jean’s place.’

Jean’s eyes met Jeremy’s, and his mouth curved up beneath the press of Jeremy’s hand. His eyes were alight with mischief, his cheeks coloured. Jean quirked an eyebrow at him.  
Jeremy’s expression quickly turned to outrage as Laila and Alvarez went into his bedroom and closed the door.

‘What’s wrong with their room?’ he demanded in a loud whisper. 

Jean took advantage of his distraction to lean up and kiss his neck. Jeremy went limp almost immediately, allowing Jean get on top of him again.

After a few minutes of enthusiastic kissing, Jeremy broke off again to say, ‘I could come home at any minute!’ Then they kissed again, until Jeremy had to add, ‘Scott doesn’t have a date tonight, how could we be in _your_ room?’

Jean hadn’t even considered Scott, mostly because he didn’t usually consider Scott. Jeremy must have planned the whole night.

Stretching his body out, Jean bracketed Jeremy’s head with his arms and played with his hair. Jeremy snuggled down into the couch, looking up at him with his shy little smile. Jean leaned in so they were nose to nose, and slowly brushed against him. Jeremy’s hand found the back of his head, his long, knobbly fingers scratching gently.

‘What would you have done,’ he asked. ‘If I had said no?’

Jeremy tilted his head. ‘You weren’t going to say no.’

‘I thought about it.’

‘I could see it in your eyes.’

Jean huffed his amusement. ‘How can you be so sure? I almost cancelled several times.’

Jeremy leaned up until their mouths brushed. ‘I told you,’ he breathed. ‘I could see it in your eyes.’

His other hand now slipped down, down the length of Jean’s stomach, searching. He found Jean’s waistline, and drew his belt from its buckle. Slowly, so slowly, still holding Jean’s gaze, he pushed his fingers past his underwear.

Jean couldn’t hold back a full-body shudder. He trembled, breathing hard, as Jeremy’s hand discovered the truth of him. There were muffled noises from the bedroom, but nothing so loud it could distract him from this. An elephant charging through the room might have.

‘Sit up,’ Jeremy whispered.

Jean managed to make some sort of noise in response, but it wasn’t a yes.

Jeremy hummed in amusement. ‘Can you sit up?’

Jean’s breath left him in a gasp as Jeremy’s fingers did something very bad. ‘Not now,’ he managed, barely.

Jeremy laughed, deep in his throat. ‘It’s very important that you do sit up,’ he said, coaxing. ‘My mouth can’t reach down there.’

With a loud curse, Jean rolled off the couch and on to the ground. Jeremy laughed, leaning over to look at him. He reached down and tapped his nose. ‘Idiot,’ he said, sounding very fond.

Jean struggled upright, rubbing his head in a daze. ‘You were saying something about your mouth?’ he queried hopefully, while taking off his shirt as quickly as possible. 

He didn’t quite manage to sit up on the couch, but half-lay on it instead, watching Jeremy with wide eyes as he worked magic with his hands. Once he got his mouth on him, Jean was utterly lost. His breath came only in swift, urgent gasps, his chest flushed red. His hands scrabbled desperately at the couch to keep from grabbing Jeremy’s hair. The world stopped and started and time disappeared. When his vision finally cleared and his body began to come down from orbit, the only word he could manage was Jeremy’s name. 

Jeremy crawled up his body and planted one kiss on each cheek. ‘Happy,’ he murmured. ‘Birthday.’ Then a pause, followed by one chaste, slightly bitter press to his lips. ‘And happy Valentine’s day. I think that means you were born a romantic.’

Jean didn’t know the first thing about romance, but it felt right to take Jeremy’s face in his hands and kiss him breathless at that time, so he went with his instincts. 

‘I’d invite you to bed,’ Jeremy sighed. ‘But there’s girls in it, and I’ll have to steam the sheets.’

‘I’m fine here if you are,’ Jean said. He’d slept in far worse places, and none of them had Jeremy to cuddle up to. ‘And I can, ah, return the favour?’

Jeremy’s grin grew wider. ‘Oh, he’s definitely a romantic.’

Jean could think of a thousand things he wanted to do to Jeremy that couldn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, be considered romantic, and none of them could be achieved on a plasticky couch that was sticking to his back. 

‘You won’t feel so romantic when you’re wiping this thing down in the morning,’ he pointed out. 

Jeremy took his hand and held it tenderly to his chest. ‘When _we’re_ wiping it down.’

Jean snatched his hand back and tapped Jeremy lightly across the cheek. Jeremy ducked a second slap and tweaked Jean’s nose, then jabbed him in the ribs. They tussled, hushing each other’s breathless laughs, until Jean could coax him back to the glorious new world of kissing. The time he’d spent being angry and shy and not kissing Jeremy before this seemed like such a colossal waste. His whole life had sucked prior to right now. He wasn’t going to second guess this. 

‘Come back to my room,’ he said.

Jeremy paused. Eyeing him, he pressed a kiss to his chest. ‘Scott’s there.’

‘Who cares?’ Jean reached down and tugged at Jeremy’s hair. ‘I want to stay with you.’

Jeremy smiled. ‘I’m not averse to that,’ he said. ‘But I have to think of team moral. If Scott shows up to practise tomorrow, bleary eyed and stiff from being ousted from his bedroom in the middle of the night by his horny roommate and his captain …’ He shook his head, tsking. ‘Too tired to move, anyway.’

Jean stretched out his bent leg, and Jeremy shifted on top of him so their bodies fit together more comfortable. Jeremy lowered his head to Jean’s chest, and Jean adjusted his neck and shoulders. Jeremy pulled a knitted throw off the back of the couch and draped it over their bodies. Before he knew it, they were falling asleep. 

Jean didn’t do well sleeping in strange places. An overnight stay for an away game meant a largely sleepless night for him. Sleeping in someone else’s dorm room, on this too small, squeaky couch, with his legs sticking out the end and his neck between the arm and the couch cushion, should have been a complete disaster. 

Jeremy’s soft yet firm weight was very present, un-ignorable. He was breathing gently; Jean could see his eyelashes, and the soft, pale eyelids, their tiny movements as he slept. His body was an anchor in the otherwise stormy sea of Jean’s subconscious. He couldn’t possibly forget where he was, because every single cell in his body was alive to Jeremy. His skin sang with the memory of his touch, his intent, of what they did. He’d literally never been this relaxed in his life. 

Jean may not sleep tonight, but he would not fear the dark.

He awoke the next morning to awkward, female whispering and scuffles. The creak of a bedroom door, and quick footsteps. Jean was dimly aware that a good portion of his legs were sticking out at the end of the couch. Jeremy’s socked feet were tucked up and resting on his shins. 

Jeremy. Jean’s arm tightened over his body, reflexively. He was stiff in every joint and muscle, but he dared not move.

He didn’t bother trying to make out the whispers; either they’d noticed, or they wouldn't. Under the blanket, Jeremy’s skin was bare against his own. He didn’t much care what else was happening.

The suite door finally closed, and they were in silence again. Jean was prepared to go back to sleep, but Jeremy stirred. 

’S’time?’ he mumbled. 

Jean didn’t answer, but moved his fingers gently across Jeremy’s back.

‘Alexa, whas’time?’

The robot’s voice floated across from the device in the corner: it was 6:15.

Jeremy gave a sleepy sigh. ‘Late.’

His head shifted on Jean’s chest, then turned. Jean missed the contact immediately. 

After about a minute, Jean sighed. ‘Stop looking at me.’

He could hear the smile in Jeremy’s voice as he replied, ‘No. I like you.’

God, it was so hard not to be charmed. 

Jeremy stretched, cracking all of the bones in his body and palming Jean’s face in the process. ‘Ah. Feels terrible. How about you?’

Jean felt like he hadn’t moved in decades. ‘I’m afraid to find out.’

‘Care to use my shower?’

Interest stirred in his belly. ‘Only if we can share.’

Jeremy raised his head and grabbed Jean by the chin. He was gentle, as always, but firm. ‘Who are you and what have you done with Jean?’

Jean shrugged, biting back a smile. ‘I’ve aged,’ he said. ‘What is the thing … older and wiser?’ 

Jeremy released his chin and slapped his bare chest. ‘Older, wiser, with one blowjob to your name.’

Jean kept his humour guarded, as he did everything else. Only Jeremy could startle a laugh out of him. 

‘Mmm.’ Jeremy’s voice was appreciative. ‘I love making you laugh.’

‘You do it often.’

Jeremy snorted. ‘Do I? It feels like a collector’s item.’

Jean tucked his chin over Jeremy’s head and tightened his arms a little. ‘Just you,’ he said, quietly. 

Jeremy’s hands, resting near Jean’s ears, now reached to touch his face. Caressing, he played with Jean’s hair and ran over his ears. The pleasure was slow, heating him from within. Jeremy’s lazy elbows stuck out and his toes rubbed Jean’s feet. Slowly, his body figured out how to stretch and loosen. By the time they got around to kissing, Jean felt like he could run a five minute mile. 

Ever the sensible one, Jeremy stopped things before they got too wound up. ‘Practise,’ he reminded him.

‘I’m trying,’ grumbled Jean, squeezing Jeremy’s ass determinedly. 

Jeremy’s laugh was a delicious, croaky thing. ‘So would you be amenable to a second date?’

‘Yeah, are you free tonight?’

‘So eager,’ Jeremy murmured. ‘We have to turn up for practise first.’

Jean would have said something like “fuck practise”, but it would only ruin Jeremy’s good mood.

So he was a good boy and went to practice. It became clear within the first few minutes that neither Laila nor Alvarez had spotted them, and though Jeremy was too kind a person to make them suffer for their transgressions, Jean had no such reservations. 

‘How did your night go, Moreau?’ Alvarez finally retaliated. ‘Did you unwind for the first time in your life?’

For once, a sharp retort wasn’t the first thing to Jean’s lips. Jeremy was on the far side of the court, coaching two of the newer players. His face was kind, and his movements were animated. He took care in everything he did, and now that included Jean.

A smile crept over Jean’s face. What a beautiful, unfamiliar thing, to be cared about. 

‘I did,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘And I think I’ll do a little more unwinding tonight.’

That was all he would say on the matter. He wouldn’t be coaxed or teased. It was a silly waste of their time. All they had to do was look at the way he watched Jeremy, like a man who knew more than he’d ever known in his life. That was the truth of him, and he would live his life in it from now on.


End file.
